Sue’s Views: Welcome to my world
Some might say the mind has a way of dimming experiences you would best forget but I remember the events of that day as clear as a bell.
“I’ve organised the boat, it’s time to scatter dad’s ashes in the sea,” declares mum. Great idea agrees my sister with what I could have sworn was a smirk as she looked my way.
Hell no, for the love that is all holy do not make me get on a boat I whimpered but to no avail for once the old girl has her mind set there is no stopping her.
But back to the beginning. Our family is a tad different you see. Mother refers to us a detribalised Englishmen having been in South Africa for some 47 years. We are a motley crew who possess a dark sense of humour and a touch of the crazy about us.
Dad passed away some two years ago and having been a Royal Marine it was deemed fitting that his ashes be whipped out at sea. So there we are at the local ski-boat base kitted out in safety vests and helmets looking like extras for a minion movie.
Now some might say the mind has a way of dimming experiences you would best forget but I remember the events that day as clear as a bell.
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My sister had clambered on board the boat and was wittering away about her seafaring legs and laughing at my distinct lack of enthusiasm. Next up was mother clutching the old man’s ashes in a bag, then my nine-year-old niece Jade and last up me. The engines were gunned and we were off.
My eyes were squeezed shut and I hung onto the rail for grim death as we surged through the waves. Mother and sister were chattering away like hyped up hyenas. After what seemed an eternity the engines were cut and there we were bobbing around in the ocean. The strange thing was the silence as the chattering by the old girl and my sister had stopped. I decided now was a good time to crack open an eye and take a peek.
Lo and behold there was my sister green to the gills hanging over the side of the boat, my niece Jade was curled in a ball on the floor with bulging eyes while mother dearest has steadied herself on two feet to whip out the ashes. Oh yes at this stage I should mention the old girl has leanings towards the theatrical having joined the local amateur dramatic society. With no thought for her safety, she lurched to the side of the boat to scatter the ashes.
“Oh dear God mother is going in”, I thought as I lunged for her and caught her safety vest. My sister at this stage is a gibbering mess, dry heaving in the corner of the boat and poor Jade is sobbing hysterically. As the old girl launched into her rendition of ‘He was my north, my south, my east” etc, I leant across to Jade to offer her comfort. Both of us caught in a moment in time with our mouths open commiserating about being roped into this, and that’s when it happened….. Jade and I ate dad.
Yep, mother had thrown dad’s ashes to the wind alright. Needless to say, it was a sombre party that disembarked at the ski-boat base. That was until mother looked at me and my sister and informed us that she too wanted a sea farewell for her ashes. Not bloody likely, my sister and I for once in agreement, told her. After that little episode, it will be a bottle of red plonk for us on the shoreline while we drone her ashes out to sea. Hasta la vista old girl that’s as good as it will get.
